70 Things for Dad, Excerpted

It’s my dad’s birthday today, and a milestone one at that. In honor of his 70 years on the planet, I wrote him 70 Things. They’re concentrated in his most recent 33 years, however.
So to celebrate Dad, here are some of the 70 Things:

• Guitar and camp songs on winter Thursdays, by the blue and orange flames of the gas fireplace
• The Cosby Show. Who knew that the TV worked in the evening?
• Shining shoes while watching the Cosby Show.

 

• Christmas at Grandma & Grandpa Hanson’s: A reading from you, some carols from Rod, endless fun with the stuffed draft-stopper snakes, and a whole lot of warmth in that little house.
• Getting to navigate from the AAA TripTik on our trips out West and to Tennessee. I loved to follow that highlighted yellow line, and I still could pore over maps all day.
• BLT’s on the Yellowstone trip. I was on a real BLT kick at that point.
• Striking it rich in Deadwood, thereby teaching my poker playing brother a thing or two about gambling.
• Your well-loved briefcase, handle reattached, seams straining at times, carrying the work that ended up carrying so many of us.
• The way you live your faith first, and talk about it second.
• You putting together the computer desk in our Creek View Drive dining room. Furniture assembly was one of the rare occasions we’d get to hear you say, “DAMN!”…multiple times…with emphasis!
• Hikes to the Sunday night campfire as a little girl. The BIG hill that would never end…and then the tiny fire in the distance. Then the warmth, the glow, the cool air and sweatshirts and flashlights with switches so tempting.
• And then the opportunity to turn them on, point them straight up, and shine them on you…but not on your face.
• And then the words that pull me through when little else will. I am somebody. Somebody. Not because of anything I’ve done or anything I deserve, but because I AM, in God’s own image. Because God is, and God is love, and I am held – as we all are – in a cosmic embrace stronger and more assured than any doubt, failing, or uuuggggly feeling.
• Grandma Hanson’s strawberry corner and strawberry cutout cookies served at breakfast. Revolutionary. At home I had to bargain pretty hard for cookies before lunch…
• Grandpa Hanson’s clippin’ chair in the front porch.
• Taking Grandma Hanson out for dinner and to see the Christmas lights in La Crosse. I remember caroling as we drove her home.
• The road care packages Mom would make you before recruiting season. I was always enthralled by the little containers of snacks and gum. Only now do I realize what a task it is to stay alert for that much driving.
• You coaxing me to eat “Ein Potato” on my first trip to East Germany. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t receptive…
• The concept of Kinder Kaffee…I could not fathom why anyone, young or old, would want to consume such a bitter beverage. Two decades later, I’m on board with coffee, for Kinder or not.
• Learning that life is very different in other parts of the world, and yet so similar in the fundamentals. I am so glad I got to see, at a young age, that not everyone lives as freely as we do and that the actions of both government and individuals do matter.
• As horrific as it was, I’m glad that you and Mom let me go to Buchenwald and Auchwitz. It is so important to see the awful end result of allowing oneself to think of other humans as not human.
•  The way you love new toys: iPads, iPhones,  and a sleek, sunroof-sporting iMpala.
• The way you stay engaged with an interested in the world around you, even when it defies logic or grace.
• If I remember right, your seminary professor said that you should read the Bible with the newspaper in the other hand. In this you excel, and I think your level-headed insights have helped a lot of us find clarity.
• The labyrinth of teetering yet well-sorted piles that was your tiny Creek View Drive office.
• The way you’d let me come in and use your awesome vintage-1985 digital calculator. Magic.
• The number of places you’ve yet to go, roads you’ve yet to drive, cafes with made-from-scratch pie and fresh ice cream you’ve yet to discover.
• The years of life, interest, engagement, and love yet to come. May you soak them up day by day and let the gratitude overflow.

Love you, Dad.  I’m so glad we have more years to share!

And if you’re NOT my dad but know him, wish him a happy 70th.

The Upward Spiral

This morning I am filled to overflowing. Yesterday was an amazing day, a particularly skyward inflection point of an upward spiral that has carried my last few months. Any attempt at a comprehensive summary will fall short – and run long – so instead, a few drops that spill out from my memory of yesterday:

I got to race yesterday for the first time this season! It was great! I went in with 3 goals: Start healthy, finish healthy, and go as hard as I could in between. I did all three. I was spent yet thankfully just a touch south of the puke zone. I raced the Flower City Challenge Duathlon, and in a nutshell, I did not PR. I was about 4 minutes off my time from the same race in 2010. That was a little disappointing; who doesn’t want to PR?

However, I have a different body, say nothing of mind, than I did in 2010. I’ve broken and healed my pelvis, significantly adjusted my run form to result in far less pain, and significantly adjusted my attitude to allow for more humor and hope than I allowed before. I also injured my calf this February and was not running (instead using QT2′s very effective Run Injury Protocol) until about 8 weeks ago. Since then I’ve only been running at recovery pace – meaning SLOW – to help my legs build durability. I haven’t run this far in a day – 2 x 5K, or roughly 6 miles – since I did this race in 2010. So I’ll happily take my 10:03 average pace as a starting point for the season.

My bike time was about 6 minutes slower than last time, but I felt great, went hard, and actually had the fastest bike split in my age group. My legs are cooked today, but I absolutely can’t wait to keep training. It is such a blessing to be able to MOVE, to watch the body gain capacity where there was none before. Such a blessing to open up similar spaces for the spirit to grow. The body can lead the spirit, and vice versa; our deepest core knows which way UP is, which way YES is. I’m learning to listen, and there is no better feeling.

On the note of finding YES, I was flabbergasted on Friday afternoon to be invited to attend yesterday’s Duel in the Pool with the Teens Living with Cancer group. The Duel was a 50-yard kick board race between my coach, Mary Eggers, and Lance Armstrong to raise money for the really important work TLC does for teen cancer patients and their families. Check out these news report for highlights:

In Buffalo, Lance Gets Chicked for Cancer - Lava Magazine article

Lance Armstrong Races in Buffalo – YNN News video & article

The Duel was incredible on so many levels. First, it was initiated by a tweet from Mary to Lance. She had the guts to ask, and he was gracious enough to accept. This is the power of possibility at work. Second, by engaging anyone in the community who wanted to help – including athletes, cancer survivors, medical institutions, media, and businesses both large and small – the Duel raised enough money to make a difference for TLC. No single person could’ve done this alone; it was the power of community and of a shared vision that made it possible.

Even more so, the Duel succeeded because it allowed people to add small pebbles to fill the pond. I was invited to attend because I’ve supported TLC in little ways and made multiple small donations, some of which came from the generous people I worked with. They – like so many of us – were able to kick in $5 or $10 or $20, and together we made a difference. Couple that with generous businesses and individuals who could afford to contribute more…and we turned a twitter-fed droplet into a ripple, then a splash and I’d daresay a cannonball. Yesterday had cannonball quality.

My upward spiral also keeps passing by – and picking up – new people. I was so happy to meet and spend time with the people involved with TLC and the Duel yesterday, not to mention my athlete friends. It’s amazing to be part of a community that’s both hopeful and real. No one is trying to paint a picture of life as rosy or simple; instead, people are finding the UP and the YES in the face of the things that don’t make sense and aren’t pretty.

I am inspired, humbled, and just so glad to have found and stuck with this upward spiral.

Pain of the Week Club

The first few weeks of 2012 have been busy and generally pretty great. A lot has happened, including a solo trip to Massachusetts for work last weekend and a long-time-coming real estate closing. Those two events both had their challenges – some snowy driving during the former, some baffling delays during the latter – but were ultimately rewarding.

I got to Massachusetts safely, had a great time talking with organic growers and gardeners at the NOFA Mass conference, and finished my longest trainer ride ever – in my hotel room – to cap my 3-week build cycle and usher in a very welcome recovery week. And the house closing went through, although the transaction has yet to be officially recorded, thanks to the aforementioned baffling delays . It should happen Monday, but I’ve made statements like that before!

And of course I’ve been training this whole time, working my way through a three week build and into the recovery week that I’m finishing right now. The Pain of the Week saga began two weeks ago today, when the weather was too nice for me to do my 2 hour 40 min bike ride inside. So I rode to Geneva and back on my road bike, and although I got a bit chilly about halfway through, generally felt good and loved getting outside – in JANUARY. At one point during the ride, after taking a shot of gel from a gel flask, I pushed the flask top against my chest to try to get it closed. Not a big deal. But it felt kind of funny…and by the time I got home I had this tight feeling in my left pectoral area.

No biggie; it will work itself out on the transition run, I thought. This is where peals of cosmic laughter start. NO, actually it won’t. I think I subconsciously tightened up my upper body…because when I got home my left shoulder blade area hurt, and on down my tricep to my pinkie. It hurt all day, and by Monday it was bordering on excruciating to cough or laugh, much less swim or lift things. Crap.

So, long story short, it took about a week and a half to work this tightness out. I’m pretty convinced that it wasn’t so much a pulled muscle as accumulated muscle tension. Odd as it sounds, I figured out that the best way to release it is to stand with strong weight through my inner foot, arch, inner leg, and core…and to roll my left shoulder back. Stretching my shoulders UP wasn’t helping; I needed to release the tension from below, literally to ground myself and lift from my core.

This is a transition in posture that’s been a long time coming. I’ve been hiding in my shoulders for most of my life, trying to create a safe space…and now I’m learning that the greater safety comes in letting myself be found.

So by this Wednesday, having figured this out and gradually released the shoulder pain, I felt ready for my run. It was just a 30 minute recovery / endurance run (ZR/Z1 in QT2 parlance), which I planned to do on the treadmill before work. The first 12 minutes felt great. My pace was slow, but it was supposed to be. Then I tried to step the pace up just a bit to move my heart rate into the endurance zone. I started to feel some tightness down the outside of my right calf but didn’t think much of it. It felt like the kind of thing that would work itself out as I ran. And then, in the matter of a few seconds, the pain escalated to “stop now” level. So I did, massaged it, walked a bit, and then decided I’d try a slow run. A lot of times pain gets better for me when I keep working through it…so that’s what I tried.

Apparently this strategy does not always work! Afterwards my knee just wanted to buckle; the pain in my upper calf was intense, and I was a bit scared I’d torn something. As Bart Simpson would say, Crapdamnhell. My internal monologue was a little stronger, but I’ll spare you. My grandma reads this blog, after all.

My first concern was to get my hobbling rear into and out of the shower and to work on time, and of course my second was to deal with this new pain. The Pain of the Week. Maybe I should’ve signed up for the bi-monthly plan – heck, I could get by with Pain of the Month. But no, here was something new to figure out.

As I stood in the shower, I decided: My leg was still attached, and therefore it could heal. Everything I’ve learned so far tells me that living things want to heal. My role is to create the conditions for healing, and that starts with not freaking out. Pain is not forever. Create the conditions, and go forward.

So I iced, elevated, compressed, massaged, traded my Friday swim test for a short, easy pull / swim session, and worked through yoga poses until I found some that released this new POTW. And now, three days later, it’s letting go. I just did my recovery / endurance trainer ride, and it felt great. I also did plenty of recovery afterwards, including the eccentric calf raises I’ve been neglecting (and which could possibly have prevented the whole thing). And I’m on the road to feeling good again. I really hope my membership in The Club lapses for a week or two. But if it doesn’t, I can deal.

And you know what…a couple of women at the gym the other day were discussing home repairs, and they came to the conclusion that, “If it’s not one thing, it’s another.” Yeah, that’s true. With houses, bodies, minds, spirits. We’re never done building, never done finding new challenges, never done resolving them. It’s so tempting to think that the goal is some state of stasis, stability, strength, perfection. That challenges and pain get in the way of how life “should” be.

But without pain, there is inherently no comfort. One defines the other; they can’t exist separately. By digging into pain, we dig that much deeper into joy.

So the real stability – at least as I’m coming to see it – lies not in stasis but in motion. And the real victory is in moving forward with confidence – not that everything will go as planned, but that it’s possible to both embrace and influence what’s to come.

And if anyone would like my POTW Club membership sent to their address for a few weeks, let me know. No, really…no need to thank me.

New Year’s Revolution

My first triathlon was Keuka Lake Tri 2010, a month before I broke my pelvis and six weeks before I started this blog. I was nervous. I’d only swum in a wetsuit a couple times before that, and I was just getting conditioned to running. But I got in the water, and in the midst of the swim, I remember thinking: Good thing I like the training, because this sucks!

And then, midway through the bike course, I remember thinking: I’m doing it. What seemed so huge and daunting is being completed, one pedal stroke at a time, and then one step at a time. I’ve had that thought in several races since, and also in the midst of work and life tasks that seemed insurmountable at the outset.

I’m going to get done. It’s how I get there that counts.

Put another way, it’s not about getting through the race, or the training session, or the project, or the awkward social event…it’s about getting IN it. It’s about finding what it has to teach, staying with the low points in order to really appreciate the high ones…

Anyhow, it’s been an intense year and a truly incredible one. I am thankful for all of you who have listened, talked, spent time, helped me find the space and motion I needed. I am so blessed to have each of you.

I generally make resolutions at the New Year…but over the past year resolutions – and maybe revolutions – have just come, sometimes in cascades and sometimes in fits and starts. I’ve become more attuned to starting over, cleaning the slate, clearing my vision, than ever…because I do it many, many times each day.

Interesting and awesome that clarity only exists in the presence of muddiness; one needs the other to have meaning. The rough times won’t go away, but neither will the smooth ones. It’s whether I choose to love the journey that matters.

So that’s what I can commit to this year. I will be right here. I will feel every ounce of good and bad that comes my way. I will admit when I’m confused and also when my thoughts are clear. I will love this life and let it grow. I will be thankful.

And when I screw this up – because it’s not if, it’s when – I will start over. A hundred times a day if necessary. Because the only perfection is in forgiveness.

So with that, bring on 2012! I’m ready for the ride and so glad to have you all with me.

Speed in Transition

I have never been fast in transition. In races, I inevitably get a helmet strap confused…and then there’s the sock / orthotic thing…and I definitely do not fly yet while mounting or dismounting. But this week I was induced to think about speed in the rest of my transitions.

I, in general, have a hard time getting to work on time. I’m not grossly late, by half an hour or even 15 minutes. But I am chronically two or three or five minutes late. Thursday I was eight minutes late, and finally that merited a mention by my managers. They are a good bunch. They said things as nicely as anyone possibly could. But the fact remains that we’re expected to be at work at 8am; same time each day; no guesswork. While my initial reaction was that it’s not THAT big a deal because I do a good job and put in extra hours…but the point is that they have consistent expectations for everyone. And really, if I can always get to work by 8:05, it really shouldn’t be rocket science to get there at 7:55.

So why is it so hard for me?

Because I hesitate. I know what needs to happen in the morning: up, brush teeth, check email, workout, shower, eat, drive to work. But in moving from one step to another, I balk. In trying to mentally prepare myself, I slow down. Some of that is good; it’s a pendulum swing from years spent barreling ahead without thinking…or ignoring the internal twinges that would tell me to adjust my course.

But to live this life, I have to move. I have to realize that I will NOT have everything figured out before taking the next step. The best I can do is clear space within me, be ready to take in what the day brings. And that REALLY is the best I can do; that’s not compromise. That’s recognizing that the past wasn’t perfect, and neither will be the future. But perfection isn’t a confluence of positive circumstance; perfection lies only in forgiveness, in accepting a fresh start.

So. After a truly tumultuous Thursday – which not only forced me to face my tendency to let fear drag me back but involved another batch of Real Estate hoo-ha – I started fresh yesterday. I wrote out a timetable for my morning, and I built in extra time. I got myself INTO the pool after only brief contemplation rather than a full-on ten minute session of stretching, considering, and preemptively shivering. I had the best swim I’ve had in a long time, beat most of my times for this particular workout.

And then I got to work on time.

There were fresh donuts from Donuts Delite, which are truly a step above pretty much any others I’ve had. And I had a really productive day.

I let myself lean forward, made my goals effectiveness and motion rather than impeccability.

And really…sometimes I ask myself why, in training and racing, we care so much about speed. Does it really matter if I run a 5K a few seconds or minutes faster? In the grand scheme of things, no. The world will still turn, and pretty much everyone but those of you who read my blog will have no idea. And really, I could maintain a good state of health if I just swam laps a few mornings a week, went for jogs, and rode my bike.

But without that goal, of more speed, or more distance, or better form, or finishing in better health, I stagnate. I stop leaning forward. I get lost in my head because there’s nothing asking me to move out.

This morning it’s sunny, about 45 degrees, and breezy. I’ve hauled out my layers and am going to try a bike ride, and then a run, and then some brunch. Leaning forward.

Pumpkins in the Park, Oven & Giant Box

Halloween weekend, so far, in pictures and hopefully very few words…because I have a haunted hayride to get to!

Pumpkins in the Park 5K Race

My race was excellent; my costume was…mostly nonexistent. I did wear an orange shirt and a race belt made from pumpkin ribbon, but I was not in prize territory for either my attire or my speed. BUT…in my own context, I’ve never felt better at a running race. I managed to negative split the race in terms of both pace and heart rate, even with the fairly significant hills in mile 2. (OK, so I negative split mile 2 by one second – but it counts! ) Mostly I was really happy with how my run form is coming along, just with the few pointers I got a few weeks ago. Compared to how I’ve felt in the past while running, I felt like I was flying. And mile 3 was the fastest mile I’ve ever run; this was helped by being strongly downhill, but again, I’ll take the help I can get. If I dig into working on form during the winter, I am psyched to see where I can be by spring.

After the grownup race, they held a mascot race, and then kids’ races. How fun!

Recovery

After the run and a trainer ride, I put my feet up with some ice. Wow did that feel good. I also tried out a new pair of compression socks – where have they been all my life? Like wearing a little hug.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bye, Bye, Mr. Mystic

This is a Mystic Plus pie pumpkin, one of the really nice Powdery Mildew protected pumpkins we offer through Harris Seeds that I think is both tasty and classy looking. It’s been decorating my apartment for a few weeks now, but since I needed its stem for my costume and its…flesh…for my Halloween party concoction, into the oven it went.

Before

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

After. So nice and roasty toasty!

 

I didn’t take a photo of the finished product, Sweet & Spicy Pumpkin Dip, which for tomorrow will be called Mystic Monster Mash…but I did take photos of the other tasty stuff I made. I like cooking. I equally like having an entire weeks’ worth of meals totally prepped and ready to go. Such a load off to know I have plenty of good, tasty nutrition at hand and don’t have to do prep during the week.

Tempeh Black Bean Tomatillo Stew. Serious yum, and enough for 5 dinners.

Giant Box

My costume is going to be pretty fly for tomorrow, if I do say so myself. Fly or really, really silly, or both. Here’s a preview. It’s pretty much impossible both to wear it and photograph it, so more photos will come!

Yeah. Probably mostly silly.

Turning Leaves

This blog starts with a mouse. About three weeks ago, I woke up on a Friday morning to find the pear on my kitchen counter with a hole nibbled in it…and copious mouse droppings on my kitchen counter. YUCK. So I cleaned up the dishes and counter, put away everything except one banana and a bunch of winter squash, and went to work. That night, more droppings. The next morning, a hole eaten through the peel of the banana and into the flesh. And more droppings. This was going to END. So I found where the little guy was getting in, plugged the hole, and called my landlord to cover it. I also cleaned my kitchen to within an inch of its life. I even used the mop that still had the cardboard hanger tag on it from when I bought it about 4 months ago. Yeah; that’s gross.

And I looked at my kitchen and loved it! The counters were clean; they were clear palettes for cooking, and they made me feel both relaxed and proud. Since that day, I have done my dishes every single day (except Friday, because a single girl has to celebrate TGIF somehow). I love it. Amazing how a little mouse and his foul, disease-ridden droppings can bring about such an awesome change. And having accomplished this, I’m trying to make other little changes to clear the various palettes in my life: the piles of paper at home and work, the piles of boxes that may someday be unpacked; and the most important, the palette between my ears. Gradually I’m even learning to wipe that clean rather than get frustrated about the mess, and I’m learning to do it as many times per hour or day as necessary.

Another benefit of this mouse experience was that I splurged on a really nice covered stainless steel trash can for the kitchen. It came in a big box with a flip-top lid that is – just in time for Halloween – big enough for me to fit inside. This combined with some craft store finds – and a hot glue gun – should yield a pretty amusing (read: festive, definitely silly, and potentially garish) costume for Monday. Stay tuned for photos.

In the world of training, lots of new leaves have been turning as well. At the beginning of October I started a new training program – same awesome coach, Mary Eggers, but now at QT2 Systems, a well-respected coaching group that coaches a spectrum of athletes from world-class pros to…relative beginners like me. As part of the new program, I’ve adjusted to new heart rate zones, come a long way with improving my swim form, and am starting to figure out better run form. Potentially after a while, I’ll no longer run like a peg-leg pirate. Which makes me think that I should dress as a pirate for this morning’s 5K…probably not time enough to get swashbuckling this morning.

But adjusting form is not always a smooth process. When I first got the feel of the extra body rotation in my swim stroke, I felt like I was flying. I was swimming faster than ever at each perceived exertion pace…and then I got in the pool last Monday for a recovery swim. I just couldn’t find that feeling; couldn’t get the rotation to feel natural. And instead of resetting, revisiting a drill or two, and starting over…I got caught up in the idea that this was supposed to be a continuous 1200 (24 lap) swim – or actually two of them back to back. And I kept swimming, forced the rotation, and ended up with a really painful intercostal muscle strain that is just now healing up. Yesterday I did some light pulling in the pool and found that rotation again; hopefully next week I’ll be healed up enough to really swim again.

So in the midst of learning the new form, the most basic form still trumps all: Listen to your body, and don’t be afraid to reset.

And finally, this swim form experience is a perfect metaphor for the rest of my life right now. A lot has changed in the past eight months for me, and I’m in a totally new place as far as taking ownership of my choices – career, budget, relationships, training. Nothing can hold me back…except me. It’s daunting but ultimately so incredibly satisfying to be in this place. I’m learning to expect pain and scariness as part of the intentional changes I’m making. I feel like I’m rewiring my mind, and sometimes ripping out the old wires can hurt; sometimes the new wires aren’t strong enough to work every time. But the new habits do build over time; it does get easier. And if it’s possible for me to learn to do my dishes every day, ANYTHING is possible!

In about two and a half hours I’ll run the Pumpkins in the Park 5K in Rochester. Time to assess my layering options and strap on some pumpkin ribbon. I’m excited to see where my speed will be after the past month’s base phase runs. But it will be nowhere if I don’t get out of bed! Update later.